Courtship Roulette
by KarotsaMused
Summary: Death's called his granddaughter to him for a little game... PG for language...be gentle, it's my first!
1. Default Chapter

A/N : Obligatory stuff...The Discworld and its characters are sole property of Terry Pratchett; I do not own nor do I assume ownership of said property. In other words, it ain't mine and I never said t'was!  
  
***  
  
Miss Susan looked around with a little smile. There is nothing more peaceful, in her opinion, than the few moments in a classroom where every student concentrates on their work. She took in the neat little rows of bent heads and slowly pushed her chair out. The typical two or three children looked up at her, but her determined gaze at the Stationery Closet answered their questioning glances. Miss Susan Is Going to Check on the Pencil Supply.  
  
Miss Susan locked the door behind her, feeling around for the box of chocolates. Of course she'd seen them, and would have seen them if the darkness had been full. But that wouldn't have been normal. Forcing herself not to rush, she broke the fresh seal with a fingernail and selected a chocolate, sighing gently as it melted in her mouth.  
  
Headmistress, she thought. Madam Susan. She frowned. She had no doubt of her capability. Being Death's granddaughter ensured expertise in many skills required of a headmistress. However, they were exercised more fully by being a schoolteacher. Besides, she secretly relished the looks on the faces of her superiors whenever they told her, for example, that she taught her students too much too well.  
  
There was a tug at the hem of her strict, black dress. She guiltily shoved the chocolate box back into its hiding place and looked down.  
  
SQUEAK.  
  
Miss Susan angrily snapped her fingers and reached down, picking the Death of Rats up by the point in its hood as the world around her went blue in timelessness.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
SQUEAK.  
  
"What's happening now? Don't tell me. Grandfather is going to twist his words just enough so I'm forced to help him save the universe."  
  
The Death of Rats shook its head and motioned with its tiny scythe to the closet door.  
  
SQUEAK.  
  
Miss Susan frowned, walked through the closet door, and looked out the window. Frozen in time, some of the children were already pressed against the glass. A pure white horse stood grazing lazily in a patch of grass. Miss Susan looked back down to the Death of Rats, hanging from her hand.  
  
SQUEAK.  
  
"Fine. Just...fine." She looked back to Binky. As long as she could ride Binky, she'd go through with anything. 


	2. Preparations

A/N : I know, dreadfully short. Oh, well.  
  
***  
  
DO YOU THINK IT WILL WORK, ALBERT?  
  
Albert blinked slowly, gazing at the scene before him. "I think...I don't know, master. I really don't know."  
  
IT WORKED BEFORE, Death said hopefully.  
  
Albert scratched his head. "Dunno, master. Before, it was one boy. 'S all too risky for my likes."  
  
"'Scuse me..."  
  
"What?" Albert asked, unable to pry his eyes from the scene.  
  
"You did say there'd be some...eyeballs in it, right?"  
  
A WHOLE BOWL.  
  
"Cor!" 


	3. Game

Susan left Binky in the stables after affectionately patting his muzzle and giving him a sugar cube. The Death of Rats, on her shoulder, pointed at a familiar door.  
  
SQUEAK.  
  
"Yes, yes, I know the way. I expect he'll want me in his office?"  
  
The Death of Rats shook its head.  
  
Susan sighed. "Lead me, then."  
  
Susan followed the skeletal rat's directions through increasingly unfamiliar hallways. She was sure some of them had been added on since her last visit. If it could be called a visit. Susan shuddered at the memory.  
  
SQUEAK.  
  
The Death of Rats brought her from her thoughts and pointed to a door. It looked just like the others, with the skull-and-bones motif around the frame. Susan knocked immediately before opening the door, a move she used to startle superiors that had become automatic.  
  
Death greeted her with a grin.  
  
HELLO, GRANDDAUGHTER. HOW ARE YOU?  
  
"Hello. What's going on?"  
  
Death looked hurt. NEVER ANY SMALL TALK? EVER?  
  
Susan rolled her eyes. Every time they went through this... "Well, Grandfather, if you must know, I'm being considered for a promotion."  
  
MARVELOUS.  
  
Susan shook her head. "I'm turning it down."  
  
Death cocked his head and shrugged slightly. I'M SURE YOU HAVE YOUR REASONS.  
  
"Now will you tell me what's going on?" Susan asked, mildly annoyed. Her hair was already starting to unravel itself from its bun at the back of her head.  
  
Albert hobbled up next to Death. "Hullo there, Miss. Come on, come on." He reached out a blue-veined hand and patted her shoulder, leading her away from Death.  
  
"Albert," Susan hissed, "you're acting strangely. You never pat my shoulder. What's going on?"  
  
Albert smiled up at her, but it was strained. With a quick glance back at his master, he replied, "Another scheme, child. Remember when he played Hogfather? Like that. You'd best play along."  
  
Susan found herself pushed gently into an uncomfortable, wooden chair. It appeared to be another item of furniture created by Death. The skulls at the ends of the armrests were a dead giveaway. She realized she was boxed in on three sides, with Albert, Death, and the Death of Rats blocking her from escaping through the hole left by the three walls.  
  
Candles flared to life as Albert lit them and set them around her. Susan tried to ask him another question, but her grandfather was staring at her. Almost imperceptibly, the blue light in one of his eye sockets disappeared and returned. Susan recognized this motion as a wink, and her stomach tightened in foreboding.  
  
"Welcome, welcome one and all..." there was a short pause, then the voice continued, "to Courtship Roulette! Where we play Cripple Mr. Onion..." another pause, "ah, scratch Mr. Onion...where we see if the little bi..." There came a loud squawk and the sound of commotion. Susan realized that one of Albert's hands wasn't in her range of vision. Two black feathers floated gently into her cell and the speaker cleared his throat. "We see if the lovely contestant can find the husband of her dreams!"  
  
"What did you say?" Susan cried, incredulous. "Oh, this isn't happening!" She tried to get up, but Albert had her pressed back into the chair. He had so much strength for an apparently frail, old man.  
  
"Stay here, Miss," he hissed. "Humor him. He tries so hard. It worked for your parents."  
  
"But that doesn't mean it'll work for me! I don't want a husband!" Susan snarled, trying to get up. Albert, however, was too strong in Death's realm.  
  
Albert pulled two lengths of rope from a pocket in his apron. "I was hopin' it wouldn't have to come to this, Miss..." He tied her wrists to the armrests so that her hands were forced onto the skulls.  
  
"Tying me up?" Susan asked, nearly choking. "Gods..." She gave one last effort, planting her boots firmly on the floor and pushing backwards as hard as she could. This resulted in a terrible screeching sound of rubber on varnish and absolutely no movement. The chair was bolted down.  
  
Albert got off of her and returned to Death's side.  
  
MAY WE CONTINUE?  
  
"No!" Susan cried.  
  
Albert glared at her, then looked up to Death. "Yes, master." Albert then turned his head and nodded to whomever was out of her line of vision.  
  
"Better bloody well be a big bowl...Oh! Well, meet our lovely contestant, Miss Susan Sto Helit, granddaughter to the Grim Reaper himself! Miss Susan, on the other side of this 'ere parapition is three lads after your affections. You get to arsk 'em each three questions and at the end you choose the one..." The speaker paused as Albert shot him a glare to discourage any lewd comments. Susan heard the Death of Rats snickering. "You choose the lad you've...chosen."  
  
Susan stared sullenly at the candles by her feet, like the children she taught.   
  
SUSAN?  
  
Susan glared up at Death, but muttered, "Fine, bring out the first one."  
  
OH, NO. THAT'S NOT HOW THE GAME GOES, I'M AFRAID.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The master means you've got to choose based on their answers, not their looks," Albert supplemented. "But you can arsk the questions now, Miss."  
  
Susan sighed in resignation. She looked back down to her boots and saw the Death of Rats standing between them, a paper card in its claws.  
  
SQUEAK.  
  
"Those are the questions?" Susan squinted and leaned down. "Uh...Number one...I don't even get to hear their names?"  
  
"Nope," said Albert.  
  
Susan sighed again, her hair now fully out of its bun and coiling around itself as she seethed. "Number one, what do you like to do in your spare time?"  
  
There was silence, and then a soft, male voice asked, "Which of us is number one?"  
  
YOU, said Death.  
  
The voice, surprisingly calm even after having Death himself call upon him, said, "Well, I like to take things apart to see how they work, I like to keep things organized, and I'm being taught the art of bonsai."  
  
Susan paused, then squinted down at the card again. "Number two...same question."  
  
"That's me, right?" another man asked. Even this quiet question had a slight lilt, a melody.  
  
Death nodded.  
  
"Ah. I hellp my father sell fish, and I allso pllay my harp."  
  
Susan had already been squinting at the card and said, "Number three, same question."  
  
There was a thoughtful pause. "I also like to take things apart," a third voice said. The tone was incredibly bright, almost jovial.  
  
"Right. This is bloody stupid...Death of Rats, I can't read it through your paws."  
  
SQUEAK. The Death of Rats shifted its grip and strained to hold the card higher.  
  
"Number one, if you could be any inanimate thing...what the bloody hell kind of question is this?" This gained her another glare from Albert, and she glared right back. "If you could be any inanimate thing, what would you be and why?"  
  
"I know that nothing is inanimate. Everything moves in time, if not of its own volition, so I don't think I can answer that question and still respect myself."  
  
Susan cleared her throat. "Uh...right. Number two, same thing."  
  
"I'd llike to be a harp in the hands of my ellders. Their skill is dellightful and I would llike to be part of it."  
  
"Number three? You've caught the pattern, I hope."  
  
Number three laughed quietly, but brightly. "I'd want to be, oh, the chair you're sitting on. Electrified."  
  
Susan found an angry blush creeping up her neck. The nerve! ...I wonder how grandfather enticed the lads up here, she found herself thinking. Even more disturbing, she realized, I know all of these voices...  
  
The Death of Rats tugged again at the hem of her dress, straining on tip-claw to hold the card as close to her face as possible.  
  
"Oh, blast...Ah, Number one, question of your choice. Wait a minute..."  
  
SNH, SNH, SNH.  
  
"Shut up, Death of Rats. Uh, Number one...what have you been trained for? What is your line of work?" she lamely asked.  
  
"I was...trained as both a thief and a clockmaker in Ankh-Morpork. But I only finished my training as a sweeper, and I consider that my line of work."  
  
Thought so, Susan said to herself. "Number two, where are you originally from? What nationality is your accent?"  
  
"I am from Llamedos, though I have travelled far away since."  
  
Two down... "Number three...ah..." Susan paused. She couldn't put a face to this voice, and his answers hadn't been much to go on. "What would you consider your most prominent...feature?"  
  
"Physical or personal?" Three asked.  
  
"Um, both, please."  
  
"I always smile at people. Some are unsettled, though I can't think why. And I'm always friendly, and curious, too. That is what most people will notice."  
  
"Huh."  
  
HAVE YOU MADE A DECISION? Death asked, a hopeful look to his gleaming skull. 


	4. Decision

"Grandfather, where did you find these poor men?"  
  
Death looked sheepish. I KNOW YOUR...TRAVELS HAVE BROUGHT YOU IN CONTACT WITH A FEW MEN. I MERELY CHOSE THREE OF THEM.  
  
Susan sighed. That proves it. But who's the last one? I know one is Lobsang, and two is obviously Imp or Buddy or whoever he is now...but who is three?  
  
"Must I marry whomever I pick?"  
  
OF COURSE NOT. THERE WILL BE A PERIOD OF COURTSHIP, AND THEN THE MARRIAGE. A MONTH SHOULD SUFFICE, I THINK.  
  
"What if we decide we dislike each other?"  
  
THERE'S ALWAYS THE OTHER TWO.  
  
Susan would have put her head in her hands had her wrists not been bound. "No pressure, then." Bloody, bloody damn.  
  
A raven hopped between Albert's legs and perched on her knee. "You picked yet?" he asked.  
  
"Quoth...you were the announcer, weren't you?"  
  
"Cor, what tipped you off?"  
  
"I should have known..."  
  
"Are you done? Only...the lads are gettin' to be a bit restless, if you catch my meaning." The raven tried to wiggle nonexistent eyebrows. He succeeded only in ruffling some of his glossy, black feathers.  
  
"Fine, fine, I pick number...one."  
  
"One?"  
  
"Yes, number one."  
  
Quoth cleared his throat. "Right! Let's see who you didn't choose!"  
  
"Yes, yes, I know number two is..."  
  
"Number two, come out here! Miss Susan, you missed out on Fran ky Celyn!"  
  
Susan's mouth snapped shut as a man with Imp's features stepped cautiously around Death and bowed to Susan. He looked exactly like Imp, only his black hair was straight, not curly, and slightly too short for a ponytail.  
  
"Nice to have...met you...Fran?"  
  
"And you," he said slowly, shooting nervous glances at Death.  
  
Quoth turned one beady, black eye up to Susan. "Don't you know who Fran ky is??"  
  
"No, I don't know Fran ky!" Susan stopped. His name. It had a ring, just like 'Buddy' did. "Um, you don't have a brother, do you?"  
  
"Actually, yes. He lleft Llamedos before the rest of us. His name is Imp, and he is my ollder brother. Uh..."  
  
Albert put his hand on Ilf's shoulder. The boy was starting to tremble. "Come on, Mr. Celyn. Let's get you back to the fish shop and we can just forget all of this happened, right?"  
  
Susan glared at her grandfather. "You got the wrong man? After all of this, you didn't even bring Imp?"  
  
Death gave her a thoughtful look. I THOUGHT YOU DIDN'T CARE.  
  
"Well, yes, but...but I would have liked it if you had brought the right person!"  
  
TO ME, ONE MAN IS THE SAME AS ANY OTHER.  
  
"That's not a comforting thought. What if you made that mistake with a Lifetimer?" Susan snarled.  
  
BUT I DID NOT. NEVERTHELESS, MY APOLOGIES.  
  
Quoth rearranged his feathers and cleared his throat again. "Number three, your turn! Miss Susan, you also lost your chance with Jonathan Teatime!"  
  
"Teh-ah-tih-meh," said the bright voice, with a hint of reproach.  
  
"He's dead!" Susan cried. "You can't bring back a dead man!"  
  
Death grinned. I DIDN'T HAVE TO. I WILL EXPLAIN LATER.  
  
Teatime came around the corner and nodded to Susan.  
  
"Why him? You don't even like him!" said Susan.  
  
Death shrugged, putting a skeletal hand on Teatime's shoulder and keeping his scythe far out of the man's reach. I COULD NOT DENY THE...ALCHEMY BETWEEN YOU.  
  
"You expected the shit to turn into gold?"  
  
"Now, Miss Susan, I did not allow myself to be brought here for insults," Teatime said.  
  
"How did you bring him here, I ask again?"  
  
"The gentleman you chose over me...brought me here. I do not know you, but he expected I would. Odd, really. Although," he added thoughtfully, "I've seen passages about you in 'Twurp's Peerage.'" Teatime put his hands on his hips, apparently unscathed by Death's hand on his shoulder. "Goodness, this place is dull. It could use some color. However, I appreciate the black..."  
  
AH, YOU TRULY ARE AN ASSASSIN, MISTER TEH-AH-TIH-MEH.  
  
"You got it right!"  
  
Lobsang went back...well, looped over on himself and brought Teatime here before he was even hired by the Auditors... Susan realized. What she said, before she could stop herself, was, "Why don't you kill him now?"  
  
Death shook his head. BESIDES THE FACT THAT I CANNOT KILL, IT WOULD HAVE SERIOUS IMPLICATIONS UPON HISTORY. EVEN TIME HERSELF WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO REPAIR THE DAMAGE. He gave Teatime over to Albert, pointedly keeping the scythe behind his back. ANYWAY, YOU'VE ALREADY...  
  
"I've already mucked out the stalls so it doesn't matter now if you could have taken the muck away before I had started," Susan finished, scowling.  
  
Quoth shuffled on her knee. "Now, Miss Susan, meet Number one, your heart's desire!" Susan had an incredible urge to beat the raven over the head, but her hands were still bound.  
  
Silence.  
  
"Oh, what now?" Susan asked, frowning. "I know it's you, Lobsang. Now untie me!"  
  
Albert came forward and freed her. There was a grin on his craggy features.  
  
BINKY WILL TAKE YOU HOME, said Death.  
  
Susan blinked. "Right. Bloody stupid," she grumbled, brushing past Death.  
  
Albert came to Death's side. "D'you think this was right, master?"  
  
After a long pause, Albert turned up to his master. "You knew she'd pick 'im, didn't you?"  
  
I CANNOT PREDICT THE FUTURE.  
  
Albert nodded, but thought that the glow in Death's eye sockets was somehow brighter.  
  
Binky stopped in his patch of grass, nuzzling Susan as she got off. Susan sighed and made her way back into the timeless classroom, taking her place in the closet. She'd almost gotten excited, what with the prospect of seeing the only friend with any bit of mortality she'd made that wasn't dead, or reincarnated. There was still some of the orange crème on her tongue.  
  
Savoring the taste, she snapped her fingers and time sprinted forward again.  
  
A hand caught her arm as she reached for the door.  
  
"You know, it was very rude to guess my name before I came around the corner," said Lobsang. 


End file.
